Youth Hostel
by Illisandria Carthain
Summary: Jonny has been everywhere, before and AFTER he met Mavis. And sometimes, just like the guy in Hamburg, he met with crazy people or situations. And almost all the time he was happy.
1. Well Then

(A/N: Don't expect frequent updates. Much like Memos to Myself, this is a "write-when-inspired" group of seemingly unrelated, non-linear oneshots of Jonny (and sometimes Mavis) traveling, and his/their many misadventures. Also, Javis ftw!)

**Chapter One: Well Then...**

Johnny slung his backpack over his shoulder and grunted, that was still a little too heavy for his liking. Maybe he could forgo some of the knickknacks. He wouldn't be able to ship them off to Mom until he earned the postage fee. And besides, who's to say Mom had to have a knickknack from /_every_/ place he went to?

"Send me something from everywhere you go!"

Oh...she did...

Shit.

_Well'p_, Jonny pulled his backpack off and began rummaging through it, searching for something to sell/trash, _no arguing with Mom. _He tossed all the food wrappers out, sifted through the various foreign candies that he had amassed from letting various rooms with candy fanatics. Well, fanatics much like himself.

Sweet tooth aside, he pulled out—and decided to hock—a large encyclopaedic tome on the benefits of organically-grown kumquats, thirteen perfect and unused pairs of gaudy tube socks, two unmated Air Jordan's that he would never find the matches for, and a large sack of dried basil flakes that looked suspiciously like a large bag of pot.

_No...better not sell this, _he decided,_ best to find an area free of CCTV and trash it ASAP._

Continuing to rummage through his personal effects, he actually happened upon a bag of Mary Jane he had picked up in France. Eyeing it with uncertainty—and a certain air of longing—he debated on the pros and cons of keeping a good stash like this one.

He could get high later – pro. He might get caught in a heavily-drug-free area and sent to jail -AGAIN- – definite con. Pot brownies – pro. It could be spiked with angel dust, 'cause that dealer looked pretty shady – con. It was expensive in that area and he wasted good money that would have bought him food from McDonalds for a month – pro?

_That last one was a little iffy...best keep this baby for laters._

More items were tossed; pound upon pound of laundry too far gone to be salvageable anymore, left socks with toe-holes in them, thirteen tubes of Colgate mint toothpaste that had exploded sometime during last winter along with the "Hawt Damn!" T-shirt they ruined, a toothbrush that had suffered an unfortunate accident at the hands of a savage German toddler, and a fuzzy Twinkie were tossed.

_How long's THAT been in there? _His nose wrinkled upon the discovery of a God-knows-how-old Monster Java. He carefully manoeuvred the can into the trash with a shudder and went back to his cleaning.

Pack now twenty pounds lighter—and absolutely sure that his bong, Zippo, and paper were in the front pocket—Jonny hauled the trash bag over his shoulder with a groan and followed it up with the "sell this" bag. Depositing the former into the large rubbish bin in the front driveway of the rest-home he was in, he humped the latter over to the corner pawn shop and got a pretty penny for them.

One and a half hours and some heavy negotiations later, he managed to get his nubby little fingers on correct postage to send Mom her knickknacks. Turning to the _freaking ginormous_ parcel he's having to send, he sighed.

"Well then..."

_You're welcome Mom._


	2. Baby, Let Me Hold You

**(A/N: I am like this. True story.)**

**Chapter Two: Baby, Let Me Hold You**

It was one of those days again. One of those days where just getting Jonny to eat actual food was a hassle. One of those days where Jonny ran out of pills.

"How do you manage to keep a steady flow of your medication anyway?" Mavis mused aloud, half to herself and the other half to her—dare she say it?!—boyfriend. Only her boyfriend was being unresponsive and she knew why.

"They were arguing," he mumbled around a mouthful of Cheetos, "they were arguing but they didn't think I heard. They always thought I was asleep...it was all my fault." Tears began to stream down his face, snot dribbling from his nose as he sobbed uncontrollably. "They w-were yellin an id was all b-by fauld!"

"Shh," Mavis dashed over to where he was sitting and started to rub his back in small, soothing circles. "They're just mad about Winnie growing up. It's not your fault."

"Id is by fauld! Eberyone leabs be! No one lobes be!" The clogging in his nasal passages made understanding him difficult; however, Mavis understood—both his childhood trauma and his mindset.

"Shh, baby, let me hold you. Everything's going to be alright. I'm still here." She held out her hands for him to allow an embrace.

He refused to move. "Nod drue! No one sdays! No one! Andrew, Bernard, Gole, Danny, Ethan, Freddy! Eberyone leabs be in the end! Eben daddy!"

She just walked over to hold him, wrapping her arms around his hunched shoulders. "But I'm not daddy. I'm Mavis and I gave you my word. A Dracula'a word is sacred; nothing can break that oath. I will always be there for you."

"B-but..." Jonny hiccupped. Mavis hushed him and just held him there for the rest of his crying jag. He slept for hours after that, but woke up to go fly-fishing in Loch Ness. A silly thing to do, but much more him than the crying and self-loathing.

He was not to blame for his parent's divorce, no matter what he thought when he got depressed.

Not even slightly.


End file.
